Between Here and There
by ShutUpAndPull
Summary: AU: A Kate and Rick "first meeting" story - What comes of two strangers sharing a train ride between here and there? *please be aware there may be a rating change in the future*
1. Chapter 1

_**Chapter 1**_

The falling snowflakes of late December dissolved into tiny speckles of water as they kissed the glass of the swiftly moving train, their pattern exquisitely random and as captivating as exalted masterpieces of art. Kate reclined alone in a foursome of seats, her booted feet propped up against the edge of the one facing her, her eyes weary from shifting between the pages of the book in her lap and the landscape, blanketed in hues of grey and white, zipping past her window.

Her randomly chosen train car was, thus far, a quiet one, the post-Christmas travel bustle not yet in full swing, and her journey of nearly twenty hours still in its infancy. She already felt somewhat anxious about it, the event that awaited her at the end of the line, someone else's joyful day, someone who was once hers but whom she now, in all honesty, barely knew as anything more than a collection of photographs and mundane shared on a website designed for people to remain in touch, which they rarely did. The invitation had been a complete surprise, as had been her decision to attend, given the way things between them had come to an end, but New Year's resolutions being what they were, there she found herself, chugging towards the Windy City.

Another announcement hissed from the train's overhead speakers, its muffled message all but lost to the rumble of the metal wheels against the track beneath them, and within moments, they began to slow on approach to their fourth station stop. Kate had been keeping involuntary count, a habit she'd picked up as a child from her mother, who'd always tried to inject some fun into even the most mundane of things. Nineteen stops in all would find her in at her trip's end, a city she knew well from childhood visits and from three years spent in law school at the University of Chicago, one of the very reasons for her attendance at the impending nuptials as a guest, rather than as the bride-to-be.

The train came to a stop and the doors at either end of the car pushed open, the bitter cold air instantly whooshing down the center aisle as though desperate to climb into the warmth to escape its own unrelenting power. Kate's hair fell from behind her ear and she settled it back where it belonged, her eyes on the dark skies of Albany beyond the window. It was the sound of his exhale of relief that drew her attention, his body dropping into the seat diagonal to hers with a grateful smile.

"Hi," he said simply, both a pleasantry and an acknowledgment of their newly shared space. His skin blazed the pink of cold beneath the days absent a razor, and the wind had dried the shine from his lips. He tugged the wool cap from his head and his hair tumbled in release across his forehead, its time beneath the shield from winter air rendering it charmingly graceless. "How do you like it?" he asked, tucking the hat into the front flap of his messenger bag and settling the unruly strands above his ears.

"Oh, I-"

"The book, I meant, not my hair," he said, quickly jumping back in to clarify. "I already know how fabulous that must look," he added with winsome self-deprecation.

Kate smiled feeling the warm blush in her cheeks as she caught herself eyeing him for longer than what might be considered polite. "I've just started it, really, but it's all right so far," she answered, tracing its cover unknowingly with her fingertip, when the truth was she'd hardly been able to absorb a word of it, at least not enough to engage in any sort of intelligent conversation as to its quality. Between her doubts about making the trip in the first place and the allure of the passing scenery, her concentration was definitely at a minimum.

"High praise, indeed," he quipped. "I never seem to be able to read on trains, myself. I always intend to, but I'm too easily distracted by the romanticism of it all, I guess. There's just something about traveling this way that gets me every time." They began to move once again, the city lights glistening like stars in the water droplets on the windows. "I'm Rick, by the way," he said, leaning in and extending a hand.

"Kate," she said, his fingers cold around the warm of her own. "I like trains, too, ever since I was a kid; now, mostly because they can't plummet to the ground from 37,000 feet."

"Well, there is that. But also that whole romanticism thing I mentioned," he said with a wink in his voice. "Bad experience flying?"

"I'm just going to say yes and leave it at that, because I'll embarrass myself, otherwise," Kate said.

He squinted his eyes and nodded as though deep in thought. "Intriguing, indeed. I might be able to do something with that." Kate looked back at him with confusion. "Oh, sorry, I teach creative writing at SUNY. I'm always plucking ideas from people's lives for my students. It's my quirky habit."

It felt right to her, somehow, that he was a writer, not that the craft carried with it any particular look or sound, but it did seem to fit his aspect, at least in her first impression. "So, there's just one then?" she asked playfully.

"You ask as though you don't believe, Kate, and here we've just met. It usually takes people the better part of an hour to realize how delightfully peculiar I am." He leaned back in his seat and propped his feet up along the top of his bag.

"Maybe I'm just that good at reading people," she said, adding a shrug. "Occupational hazard."

"Psychic?"

She released a tiny burst of laughter. "Prosecutor," she told him with a definitive air of pride.

"Better," he enthused. "And now I promise I'll be on my best behavior all the way to…"

"The end of the line for me," Kate said. "Chicago."

Rick crossed one ankle over the other and settled deeper into his seat. "What a small, kind world," he replied. "Me, too."

 **xxxx**

He wasn't like Will, her groom not-to-be. Even in the short time she'd spent with him, Kate already found herself contrasting the two men in her head, the most ridiculous part of that being she had no idea if he was even available, and if he was, what that fact had at all to do with her. She'd always felt a pull towards harder men, men who exuded intensity and who rarely asked her for anything, but something inside her was curious, drawn, or, quite possibly, just being sucked into the fantasy born of a thousand books and films, the one where complete strangers met by happenstance and realized the universe had somehow succeeded in orchestrating the greatest love story ever told.

Rick excused himself to the lounge to buy a snack after the last station stop, and the moment he walked away, she felt anxious for his return. They'd talked for the better part of two hours, something she wasn't accustomed to doing outside of work, and his voice seemed to soothe her. Staring out at the black of night around her in wait, she noted a palpable pang of envy for his students, blessed with the opportunity to experience it in his class every day.

"So, I know you said you didn't want anything, but your eyes told me different, so I brought you some hot chocolate and an oatmeal cookie the size of my head. I hope that's okay," Rick said, plopping back into his seat with his hands full of goodies. "I got a disapproving look from a grandma when she saw this stuff, but I'm pretty sure she was just jealous because it was all to be shared with another."

Kate smiled and relieved him of one of the paper cups. "Breaking hearts one train car at a time, huh?"

"Well, she'll miss me, but I know we'll still be friends," he joked, passing her the enormous cookie. "I told you it was big. Good thing we still have twelve hours on this thing or you'd never be able to finish it."

"So, I guess my eyes must've been starving," she said. "Who knew?" She peeled back the plastic flap on her lid and took a sip. "Thank you for this. It's good, actually."

"They say the eyes are the window, after all, and, if I may say so, a beautiful one, in this case. They have this little dance going on, the greens and the browns," he told her, his words fading into silence while his gaze held steady. "But, um, yeah," he sputtered as though caught looking a bit too long, "it is pretty good for train fare." They sat quietly for the next few moments, each enjoying the warmth of the cups in their hands and the calming motion of the train. "So, if it's not too personal a question, may I ask why a prosecutor?" he asked finally, tearing open a bag of trail mix.

"No, it's not...I mean, it's fine," Kate replied, her finger methodically circling the curved edge of her cup. "My, um, my mom died of cancer when I was eight, and I was just so young, I couldn't understand it. My dad told me I used to talk about how unfair it was all the time. He said that was the word I always used, unfair." She stopped briefly, lost in thought. "Anyway, I kept trying to find answers, reasons where there were none, and I got this silly idea in my head, as kids do, that if I became a cop, if I had the skills and the resources cops had, one day I'd be able to solve the big mystery and explain why. So, that's what I did. I finished school in New York, mostly because my dad told me I had to, and I joined the force."

"You were in the NYPD?" Rick said, more dazzled than surprised.

"I was. It was all I could ever remember wanting to do, and I loved it." Her face changed then, before she made the decision to continue, before she said anything more. "And then one morning, a week past the first anniversary of my graduation from the academy, my partner and I answered a call for backup on a 10-30, a robbery, and he was shot and killed out on the sidewalk on 32nd Street."

The ache in her words hit him like a ton of bricks. "God, Kate, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry that happened," he said, knowing well nothing he could offer would help, but wanting desperately to comfort.

"The shooter took a deal and testified against his partner, ended up serving next to no time. After that, something for me just changed." She paused and turned her eyes to the window, and Rick let her have the moment. "If I had to live with seeing his face in my head day after day after day, I wanted them to have to see me, too, to have to remember the face of the person that put them away. So, I went back to school, got my law degree and started with the DA's office." She swallowed down another sip of hot chocolate and looked back at him. "So, can you do something with that, too, professor?" she said more lightly than he expected, given the weight of what she'd shared.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he told her. "That's already a perfect story. Thank you for sharing it with me. I can't imagine that was easy to do."

"No, it wasn't, but the kind audience helped. Plus, you did buy me this cookie, if that's what they insist upon calling it, so I figured I owed you," she said. "And, for some reason, I wanted to. I'm not sure exactly why because I've had sneezing fits longer than I've known you, but I did."

Rick thanked her again with tenderness in his eyes. "This trail mix kind of tastes like cardboard," he said matter-of-factly, apropos of nothing. "Care to make a trade?" He waggled his eyebrows wantingly at her cookie.

Kate shook her head in silent rejection and began peeling at its plastic wrapping in taunt. "How about you tell me, if it's not too personal, of course, why you're on this train to Chicago, and then maybe I'll consider sharing it with you."

Without a second's hesitation, like a child bribed with a piece of candy, Rick sat forward and began talking. "Well, there are a couple of reasons why I'm on this train, counselor, one of them uncomplicated and the other not so much." Kate felt immediately intrigued, her journey likewise complex. "The first, the simple one, is that I'm going to meet with an editor about a book I've written. It's a friend of a colleague and they graciously set it up for me, so while I have the time over holiday break, I figured why not."

"That's great, Rick, congratulations," she said.

"Yeah, we'll see," he replied modestly. "Proust, I'm not, but…"

"Oh, so if I ever get to read it, I might actually be able to understand it, then," Kate wisecracked. "That's good."

Rick chuckled. "Cute, very cute. Now, get ready to break a nice piece off of that bad boy," he said, pointing at her hand, "because I've nearly met my end of the deal." Kate grinned and dropped a piece of the cookie into her mouth, chewing it with exaggerated delight as he looked on. "You're a cruel woman, you know that?"

"Better hurry up and finish your story, or this thing's going to be gone," she replied impishly.

He pushed back into his seat before continuing, what was still to come obviously heavy in his mind. "I'm also going to visit with my father, whom I haven't seen in thirty-five years, hence the not so uncomplicated." Without a word, Kate reached over and handed him half of the cookie, which he accepted with thanks. "He found me through the university and called me out of the blue just before Thanksgiving. He was in New York, but I wasn't ready to jump into anything without some time to think about it."

"And you're ready now?" she asked him.

"Honestly, Kate, I'm not entirely sure I'll ever be ready for it, but I know I wouldn't forgive myself if something was to happen and I never, at least, tried. I was very young when he left, like you were when you lost your mother, and even though it was just my mom and me after that, she never let me live a day thinking I was missing out on something. But, there is a part of me, now that I'm older, that hungers for explanation. I'm sure a therapist would have a field day with the fact that I create fantasy worlds for a living. It's almost too easy," he said, finally taking a breath and a bite. "Wow, okay, this tastes so much better than cardboard."

"So it was worth it then, hmm?" Kate asked, keeping things light, sensing it might be what he needed.

"This decision has already been well worth it," Rick said warmly, his eyes conveying the intended sentiment.

Kate felt her skin flush with his words. "Yeah," she echoed, unaccustomed to the titillation born of such ease with a man so new to her, but allowing it to take hold of her, nonetheless, despite its novelty. "I know what you mean."


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2**_

Kate had dozed off somewhere between Rochester and Buffalo, her body leaned upright against the wall of the train car and her knees curled up at her side. The interior lights had been dimmed and the gentle chatter amongst the other passengers around them had subsided, and Rick sat with his notebook open, pen in hand, trying to capture the moment in the best way he knew how, with words.

He carried it with him always, its cover of burgundy leather marvelously worn from nearly two decades of use, a treasured gift from his mother upon his graduation from college. It was for him what film was for a photographer, a silent chronicle of moments, his eye into worlds both true and mythical, and a piece of Kate now appeared there for the first time. He'd always been blessed with a laudable imagination, and he rarely needed for inspiration, but he couldn't help but think there was something different, something special about the new character that'd crossed his path.

Without indication as to why, the train suddenly began to slow, and with the sound of its horn, Kate stirred awake. "What time is it?" she asked with an inadvertent squeak in her voice. "Are we stopping?"

"It's not Chicago o'clock yet, unfortunately, but we're definitely stopping for some reason. You're still stuck with me in this metal box for a while longer, I'm afraid," Rick teased, capping his pen.

"Plus my cookie's gone," she replied with a much needed stretch of her muscles. "This really isn't my day."

"Well, since it is after midnight and technically tomorrow," he said, looking down at his watch, "maybe your rotten luck will turn around."

Just then, the door nearest them opened and a conductor stepped into the car, their motion having entirely halted. "Sorry, folks," the man announced, "but, apparently, there's some debris across the track ahead, so it's going to be a few minutes while that situation is resolved. Just sit tight and we'll be on our way again as soon as we can."

"You were saying something about my luck turning around?" Kate said as the conductor moved on down the aisle.

Rick could only shrug. "Guess I'm just an optimist, counselor, always looking for that happy ending." He flipped his notebook shut and tucked it back into his bag.

"Was that…Were you working on something? I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt you," she said in unsolicited apology.

"No, please, you didn't," he assured her. "I always have this thing out. I'm constantly scribbling down observations and thoughts and character stuff wherever I go. Life happens all around us all the time, right?"

"I like that," Kate said, charmed by the practice. "You probably could've set the couch on fire next to my ex and he wouldn't have noticed." She exhaled a soft chuckle and then realized what she'd said - another comparison she hadn't intended on making, and certainly not voicing.

Rick felt his pulse quicken with premature excitement. "An ex? As in not current?" he asked, sounding positively doltish.

"No, not current," Kate replied demurely. " _So_ not current, in fact, that I'm on this train headed for his wedding. His fiancée is from Chicago, in an ironic life twist."

Rick's eyebrows crept upward with surprise. "Wow, that's healthy. You're still friends? I'm impressed. The only thing I managed to keep after my divorce was my dog."

"Yeah, well, I'm not sure friends are exactly what I'd call us. Honestly, I was really surprised when the invitation showed up, and even more surprised that I agreed to go." She picked intently on a loose string at the hem of her jeans. "I bet that hypothetical therapist of yours might have a thing or two to say about that, too."

She rubbed at her eyes, so he hesitated in taking it further. "You're tired. I should let you sleep," he said.

"It's okay. I'm fine, really. I find I don't need a whole lot of sleep, these days," she said. "Years of practice, I guess - occupational hazard."

Rick nodded knowingly. "Me neither," he concurred, "but, sadly, I don't have a badass excuse like making the world a safer place like you do. I just have a brain that wants to play all the time."

Kate smiled, feeling instantly smitten with the notion. "We're quite a pair, then. Looks like you picked the right seat."

"Yeah," was all he replied, his brain screaming far more. "The two of you weren't, though? A good pair, I mean."

She and Will met at school in New York, he a year beyond her and stunningly wild. Unlikely from the start was what they were, yet somehow that only served to fuel the fire, and for two years they were nearly inseparable. The problem, or one of them, was that that connection created expectation, and expectation at a time when the world was all about possibility, became too heavy a burden. She knew exactly what she wanted, he only what he didn't, and they limped through the following year in a dance around the inevitable. By the time she told him she wanted to leave the NYPD for law school in Chicago, he already had one foot out the door.

"We weren't anything I ever imagined," Kate said, memories floating across her mind, "and I think I pretended for a long time that would always be a good thing, but, of course, on the other side of imagination lives reality, so…God, I have no idea why I'm telling you all of this," she mumbled in whisper.

One more second, just one more, and Rick would've pushed himself from his seat, crossed the small divide between them and kissed her silly, but like the ruthless buzz of an alarm clock at the height of a brilliant dream, the train began to move again, holding him firmly in his spot. "It's not as easy to write reality," he said, imagining the feel her lips against his. "That's why I stick to fiction. And, for what it's worth, whatever the reason is, besides my staggering charm, of course, I'm flattered you're telling me all of this. I know we've just met and I could be wrong, but you don't strike me as someone who opens up a lot."

"No," she confirmed, his astute read of her unexpected yet somehow not unnerving. "So, maybe one day soon I'll be strolling past a bookshop and see a copy of yours in the window," she said. "What's it about, anyway? I mean, I'll need to know so I can decide whether or not I'll actually want to go in and buy a copy."

He crooked his eyebrow with feigned incredulity. "Well, let's see, it's about a man and his wickedly sarcastic travel companion on an unexpected journey together. And before you say anything, if, for some reason, you need more juicy tidbits than that, this beautiful, fascinating travel companion has a thing for gigantic cookies. It's a real page-turner, I'm telling you."

"I see," Kate said with a grin. "And how does it end?"

"Wow, that wasn't enough to whet your appetite? You're a tough sell. I'm actually still working on the ending," he said. "Maybe between here and there I'll come up with something to win you over." She tried to stifle a yawn but couldn't hold it back. "In the meantime, go back to sleep. Let the wordsmith work in peace, would ya? I only have a few hours left to get this brilliance out."

"Who am I to stand in the way of your process," she said in jest. "Wake me when we get to Wrigley."

"I'll do that," he said, and he watched as she closed her eyes and drifted off.

 **xxxx**

"I'm impressed," Rick told her, returning from a brief stretch of his legs to find Kate awake and surprisingly alert in the light of morning. "You actually managed to sleep in that seat and you barely moved."

She tilted her head to the side and grimaced. "And now I have a knot in my neck the size of Texas." She squeezed at the muscle with her hand, attempted to loosen it up. "I'm not really sure it was worth it, though I did have a dream about my mom and that doesn't happen often. Note to self," she said with a wince, "book a sleep car next time."

"Absolutely. I did," he said absent forethought.

"You did? For this trip? But, you…why didn't you use it?"

He nodded as though not at all surprised, as though his too-quick mouth had gotten him into trouble before. "Busted," he whispered. "I suppose I'll give you the honest answer because, though I am a writer, I, myself, didn't sleep and, therefore, will not be able to come up with a convincing cover story on the fly. The truth is I wanted to spend more time with you, and inviting you back to my cabin seemed less than gentlemanly."

The images began invading instantly and she couldn't stop them, striking like a finger plucking a string and leaving her momentarily speechless in their barrage. His effect on her was palpable and profound, and it was everything she could do not to let it show, not to let it swallow her whole. "That's very sweet," she said in an understatement almost laughable. "I suppose I owe you an apology for zonking out, then."

"Actually, I made a bit of progress on that whole story ending thing we talked about earlier, so it worked out okay."

"Well, then, you're welcome," Kate teased, glancing out the window to find a view of the skyline she knew and loved. "It never gets old, does it?" she said, taking it in.

Rick watched her in her relish of the city and he knew what had to be. There was no question, there was no maybe, there was no later. "I don't want this to end," he blurted. She turned and their eyes met. "I can't have just one day with you, Kate, and I'm sorry if that sounds intense after such a short amount of time, but I don't know how else to say it."

The final arrival announcement into Union Station sputtered from the speakers above them, but neither moved an inch as their fellow travelers began to shuffle around them.

Kate swallowed hard, both stirred and surprised. "It doesn't, actually," she confessed, finding unexpected power over her fear. "I don't know why, but it doesn't."

"So, what do we do? Do we...Can I see you? Can I see you here? I know you have your thing and I have mine, but I don't care when it is. I'll make it work."

The vehemence in his voice made her want it all the more. The sound of genuine hope radiated from his words and pulled her in deeper. "Dinner? Tonight?" she said, the day barely begun but wishing it was already over.

"Dinner tonight."

"I'm staying at The Loews on Park. Come meet me at 8PM?" she said, pushing out of her seat as the train came to a stop.

Rick remained still as she stepped out into the aisle and pulled her suitcase from overhead. "I loved every minute of this," he told her. "Thank you for letting me share it with you."

Kate let go of the handle of her bag and leaned in, bracing herself against the armrest of his seat. She kissed him gently on the lips and pulled back. "Tonight," she said and she moved for the door.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Between Here and There**_

 _ **Chapter 3**_

Kate parked herself at a table in a small cafe for a couple of hours after leaving the train station, her body craving caffeine and the hush of still ground. It'd been no time at all, but she already missed Rick's face, a thing she hadn't expected and couldn't seem to control, and working to try to process that on top of everything else swirling around her brain proved to be a distraction more powerful than her willpower could subvert. With no headway made on the case file she'd brought along with her, she headed for the hotel.

She swiped her way into room 407 at the Loews a short time later, remembering to leave Rick's name with the young woman at the front desk who kindly allowed her access despite the early hour. She dropped onto the bed face down, her suitcase abandoned in the middle of the floor, her coat and scarf still wrapped around her body, and she could hear his voice as though he was right there next to her, whispering in her ear, that soothing voice of the stranger who now occupied her thoughts, and slumber found her as she listened.

Her cell phone rang at nearly 6PM, its buzz waking her with a start. Her father had called earlier to make certain she'd arrived safely, but she'd missed it as she slept, his second attempt a grateful success, given the hour. She assured him all was well and expressed her love, something she always made sure to do since the loss of her mother, her pulse quickening as she watched three more minutes tick by on the nightstand clock. In just two more hours, Rick would be there.

 **xxxx**

She gave herself one last look in the mirror when she heard his knock, thankful she'd brought two dresses along with her on the trip, indecisive at home as to the better of the two for the wedding. The more daring of the two won out for the evening, unconsciously or perhaps not, and she moved for the door with a nervousness that felt almost sweet. "Hi," she said, sounding positively girlish as she pulled it open to find him waiting, bouquet of flowers in hand.

"Wow," Rick said, taking her in. "You look...Wow." He sighed at his own inelegance. "Please, forgive me. Apparently I can't seem to come up with an intelligent group of words to describe how incredible you look."

"Some writing professor you are," Kate teased. "And, thank you. I was just glad there was an iron in the room or we might've been in for some interesting attention tonight."

"Ah, the woes of travel," he said with empathy. "I actually went out and bought this shirt today."

Their eyes met and lingered. "Sorry, um, would you like to come in?" Kate asked, breaking the spell with unspoken regret.

"Sure, yeah, thanks," he said, slipping past her. "Oh, and these are for you. I know you aren't here for that long and a vase is probably a tall order, but I was walking by a shop earlier and I just couldn't resist. They made me think of you."

All she'd been doing for hours was thinking of him, and she well understood the sentiment. "That's very sweet, thank you. They're beautiful." She walked around him and into the bathroom. "Did you enjoy your day?"

"I did. I did some more writing, actually. Inspiration often strikes when I least expect it," he told her as she emerged with a glass of water. "I believe I have you to thank for that."

"Me?" She set the flowers into the shallow glass and propped them up against the lampshade on the nightstand for added balance. "Why me?"

"You ask as if you don't know how compelling a woman you are. How is that possible?" He took a step towards her and his woody scent flooded her senses. "You've been the only thing on my mind since the minute you walked off that train, and it is taking every ounce of restraint I've got not to do something very stupid right now." His eyes fell to her lips and she felt it in her bones.

"I...I didn't expect any of this," Kate murmured under her breath. "I can't believe this is happening."

"I'm sorry, Kate," Rick said, taking her cue and backing off. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I'm truly, truly sorry."

Without another word, she came for him, her mouth finding his with marked insistence. "You didn't," she whispered, leaning in for more. His fingers clutched at the hair at the back of her neck, fueling her even more. "God, where did you come from?" she asked breathlessly. "Whatever this is, I never do this."

"I came from Albany," Rick said amusingly, "and on behalf of me _and_ the capital, we're both so happy you're doing this."

Kate giggled against his lips and the resulting tingle passed between them. "And you smell really nice," she blurted, the words sincere yet extemporaneous, her eyes dropping shut in embarrassment. She'd delivered hundreds of arguments in open court without issue, but here, now, with him, she became a bumbling idiot.

"What? What is it?" he asked, taking in her expression.

"I didn't mean to say that. I meant to thank you for making me laugh." Her forehead dropped to his shoulder. "I told you I never do this."

He wrapped his fingers around hers and gently squeezed. "Hey, look at me." It took her a few seconds, but she did as he asked. "If you were any more enchanting than you are in this very moment, I don't think I'd be able to breathe. I don't want you to be nervous or to worry about what you say or how you say it, because I guarantee that by the end of this night, I'll have said some of the most foolish things you've ever heard." He leaned in and kissed her cheek. "This is just me and you going out for dinner and spending some time together in seats that don't rattle, no expectations, no pressure."

"Just so you know," Kate said after a brief pause, "I wasn't trying to take it back. I really do think you smell nice."

"So do you," Rick replied with a smile. "Now let's go make some people jealous."

 **xxxx**

They sat close in a curved, leather booth beneath a gold-rimmed mirror at Boka, their knees kissing beneath the table every so often in titillatingly unintentional fashion. The restaurant recommendation had come from the same friend who'd set up Rick's meeting with the editor, though he hadn't offered any specifics as to the reason for the inquiry, superstitiously not wishing to curse the evening in any way. They'd each ordered a glass of wine, nursing them as they awaited delivery of their meal, the conversation just as light and effortless as it had been on the train in.

"Tell me something you love about your job," Rick said, watching as she circled the base of her glass with her fingertip, absorbing everything he could in the minimal time he knew he had with her.

"One thing, hmm? Well, I guess I love that when everything comes together, when all the effort and the time and the sacrifice bring us a successful outcome, someone, a family, can go home feeling safe."

"God, that's admirable, spending your days and nights working for someone else's peace of mind," he told her, having expected nothing less.

"You're shaping minds. And you and your students are creating worlds that help make this one a little bit easier to live in. That's just as admirable, Rick. We all need that."

"I just really like that I can wear jeans to work," he retorted, sipping from his glass. "But, thank you, they're good kids. They teach me a lot, too. I probably learn more every day than they do."

"I bet your book is wonderful," she said. "I really hope I get to read it one day."

"For many, many reasons, I hope you do, too." Her hand found his knee and she smiled. "So, how are you feeling about tomorrow? And, if you don't want to talk about it anymore, I totally understand."

"I'll be fine. Of course, I'm happy for him, for them, but there really was a time when I thought it would be us," she said wistfully. "I've been trying not to get too caught up in that space. It's been many years at this point, but it's still a bit strange, I guess, when something that was once such a large part of your life moves on without you." She picked up her glass but set it right back down. "But, God, this is just an ex's wedding. You're seeing your father tomorrow. I can't believe I'm talking about me and my silly stuff."

Their waiter stepped up to the table with their selections, offering Rick a brief moment to let what Kate said to land. "That looks delicious," he said, eyeing her plate with appreciable lust. "Why didn't I get that?"

"Because you lack my fine culinary taste?" Kate quipped, noting the fact that he hadn't looked away from her plate since it'd been placed in front of her. "And because if we'd gotten the same thing, we wouldn't be able to share." She plucked one of the scallops from her plate and set it on his next to his roast chicken, grinning as he giddily reciprocated the gesture and offered her some of his own. "I'm not one who often makes deals, so this better be the best damn chicken I've ever tasted," she said.

"Your kindness shall bring you endless rewards," Rick said, reminiscent of something one might expect to read on a piece of paper tucked into a fortune cookie. "You know, Kate, I hope you don't think what you're feeling about the wedding isn't important because of what I'm here to do. I understand it, I really do, and I know it's not easy. You should let yourself go through whatever you need to, and if I can do anything to help, you just say the word."

She'd just met this man a day ago. She knew so little about his life, about the things he believed in and wanted and felt, but she'd never before felt such a profound connection in spite of those things, or wanted to know more about another person in her entire life. She set down her fork and dabbed her mouth with her napkin, drifted across what space there was between them and kissed his lips gently. "Just you saying that helped," she told him, settling back into her spot.

Rick playfully cleared his throat. "Yes, and apparently it helped me, too. I think I'll carry that one around with me for a while, if you don't mind."

"Your kindness shall bring you endless rewards," Kate said with an audible wink. "Now, eat your scallop before it gets cold."

 **xxxx**

They hopped in a cab to the Riverwalk after dinner, the night air raw and biting, but they strolled arm in arm back towards her hotel as though blanketed by the warmth of summer. Kate recounted trips there with her parents as they walked, times they used to stand together on the bridge and wave at the passing tourist boats on the water just to see how many would wave in kind, or how big a treat it always was for her to buy her own hot dog from a street vendor and hand him the money herself. Everything about the city was a source of joy for her, and Rick relished hearing every word of it.

"I'm sorry. I feel like I've been talking nonstop," she said, suddenly conscious of the sound of her own voice. "Is everything okay? You've been quiet since we left the restaurant."

Rick squeezed her arm in against his body with his own. "You have nothing to apologize for. I love your stories. They actually made me want to come back and do all of those things you talked about, including the hot dog. I'm going to start saving my pennies for that the second I get home," he joked. "I just…my father called while we were at the restaurant and I listened to his message when you went to powder your nose. It all suddenly felt so real."

"I think it's really brave what you're doing, Rick," she said. "Vulnerability isn't something I'm all that great at, so I'm not sure I could do it if I was in your shoes."

"Yeah, I kind of sensed that, though you've been pretty open with me so far, I think."

"I haven't really worked out an explanation for that yet. Maybe there was something in that cookie you bought me," she said as they stepped up to the entrance of the hotel.

"Keep cookies coming. Got it," Rick mumbled as a playful note to himself.

"Would you, maybe, like to come in and have a drink at the bar? I think I could use a brandy after that walk."

"I absolutely would," he agreed, taking the hand she offered.

There were two empty seats at the end of the bar, and Rick helped Kate out of her coat before she excused herself to the ladies room for a tissue, leaving him to order their drinks. He never took his eye off the door once she disappeared inside, finding himself positively lost in the vision as she made her way back across the room to him.

"What?" she asked, noting the intensity of his gaze. "Do I have-"

"You are absolutely the most breathtaking woman on this thing," Rick interjected with arousing sincerity.

Kate's eyes narrowed. "'On this thing'?" she asked with a chuckle, settling into the seat next to him. "Did you kick a few back when I stepped away?"

"Very funny," he said, "but, no, I did not, thank you. This thing is this planet, counselor." The bartender set their brandies in front of them and Rick picked up his snifter to toast.

Kate was seated, but his frankness made her knees weak, and she could feel her eyes wandering to his lips, his neck, his hands, her mind wandering to her empty room upstairs. She wanted him. She knew that as clearly as day was day and night was night. She wanted him more than she'd ever wanted any man, and that truth was one she found impossible to deny. "Rick, I want to see you again before I go," she told him, reaching for her glass. "Maybe on Sunday we could…"

"Definitely on Sunday we could," he agreed eagerly, tapping her glass with his own. "I didn't want to push because I thought you might want some time alone here, but I was hoping for more of you."

She felt a blush in her cheeks and the warmth of the brandy in her throat. "Good. So, Sunday."

"Sunday," he echoed with an unapologetic smile.

They left the bar when it closed down at midnight and climbed into the lobby elevator behind two other couples enjoying an evening out together, Rick insisting upon escorting her back to her room over her objections. They were leaned against the railing in the back corner of the car, each silently hoping, unbeknownst to the other, the foursome would exit early, leaving them alone to release some of what they'd been holding inside since dinner. Kate's hand brushed up against Rick's as one of the other gentleman pressed the button for the second floor, and she swore he could undoubtedly feel her euphoric grin.

They bid the pair of couples goodnight as the four rowdily exited the elevator and disappeared, and watched the doors push close behind them with palpable relief. Rick immediately pivoted and stepped into Kate's space, her hands finding his waist in fists around the fabric of his shirt. "Was it just me or did that one floor feel like an eternity?" he said, inching forward with her unspoken plea.

"It wasn't just you," Kate whispered before their mouths met with a collective hum of satisfaction. They remained intertwined for the short ride to the fourth floor, the repetitive clang of the arrival bell finally succeeding in separating them following a valiant effort. "Shit, this is me," she sighed, cursing the sight of her hallway beyond his shoulder.

Rick dropped his head and stepped backwards into the door's track to pin it open. "We should've taken the stairs," he lamented. "No time limits." In an exhale of frustration, he beckoned her with his eyes. "God, you're good at that," he praised.

"That takes two, teach. Don't sell yourself short." She pushed a tiny bunch of errant hair from his forehead, leaned in and gently kissed the skin of his neck, the elevator door lurching against his back in its effort to regulate. "You know, I don't think I've ever made out with a college professor in one of these things before."

"Oh, then you must've signed up for the hotel's gold service package, then. Congratulations on your maiden voyage, 407, and please be sure to write something nice on the comment card in your room before you check out. Our reputation is our business."

Kate let out a laugh and pushed in for one final kiss. "I really hope you enjoy your time with your father tomorrow. I'll toast you and your courage with some champagne at the reception." She backed out of the car and his hand reached zealously for her, but she was already too far gone. "I know it's silly of me to say, but try to get some sleep."

"Sunday," Rick said and he pressed the button for the lobby.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Between Here and There**_

 _ **Chapter 4**_

Kate woke the next morning in bed alone, her eyes falling to the empty pillow next to hers, wishing Rick was sleeping there, wishing she could wake him in a way they'd both remember. She rolled over onto her back and reached for her phone, her hand inadvertently brushing against the glass holding her flowers, causing her to smile. She eyed her text messages first, the single notification badge hung there above the icon eliciting a hopeful breath as she pressed it open.

"Is it Sunday yet? I'm sitting here at 3:17AM, imagining that's just what you're asking yourself as you read this because you simply can't wait to see me again (ha ha). Last night was wonderful , in case you've forgotten the 11 times I told you that already. I haven't stopped thinking about it, or you, so I'm probably in for another sheepless night. P.S. I wouldn't want it any other way. Today's a big day for both of us. I hope it brings you everything you hope it will and some fun. You'll be on my mind. Soon, WBTC"

He'd entered his contact information into her phone himself, labeling it 'World's Best Travel Companion' to her continued amusement, and his sign-off brought a drowsy giggle as she read back over his words a second time. Dropping the phone onto the bed, she lowered her forearm over her eyes and let time wind back to their elevator ride just hours before, slowly, second by second, touch by touch. Her hand slid beneath the sheets as the memory played across her mind like a film in slow motion, each frame's effect enhanced by the subtle fluctuations in pressure and speed brought by her fingers.

It was the greatest form of torture, her own imagination in concert with his words, and she could still hear his voice wrapped around the magic word, _Sunday_ , as she lay there, spent, at the film's end. Now all that stood between her and more of him was twenty-four hours and the wedding of a man she once thought she'd be marrying. "How hard could it possibly be?" she asked aloud to the empty room.

 **xxxx**

With the festivities not set to begin until the evening, Kate had most of the day to wander the city. She hadn't been back for a visit since shortly after her graduation from law school, so after a long run in the hotel's fitness center to burn off some of her residual energy from the morning's memory session, she set out into the cold sun to take in some of her favorite old haunts.

She didn't expect to hear from Rick all day, his plans with his father unspecific in their form, but that didn't deter her from keeping one of her gloved hands wrapped around her phone in her pocket as she moved about, just in case. It was almost adolescent, the waiting and the wonder, the 'will he or won't he?' of it all, but it tickled something inside of her, nonetheless, and that was a feeling she'd forgotten how much she enjoyed.

It had been a convenient excuse to hide behind, her career, one she'd called upon many times since she'd joined the DA's office. She was successful, skilled at, and passionate about what she did every day, so there was always a case that required her time, focus, and commitment. It'd allowed her to remain comfortably in the driver's seat, to walk through her days and years with little risk, to avoid those vulnerabilities she never again wanted to find herself lost in. The years just after her mother's death had been filled with enough of those for a lifetime. Rick was the first man she'd met in longer than she could recall who sparked a hunger in her for more.

With her father in heart and mind, she walked the Magnificent Mile, ducking into spots they'd always enjoyed together, snapping photos and sending them on to him via text message as she went, so he could enjoy a bit of them right along with her. She reminisced about flipping through old maps at Newberry Library, hearing the flags snap in the wind at Navy Pier, watching the lights at Buckingham Fountain in the dark of night, and always returning to the Drake to sleep after days filled with laughter.

The final stop she made was for herself, a trip to her old campus, the place she'd come to years ago to help mold her into the tool for true effect she so wanted to be. She roamed around the Quadrangle in the short time she had left, thankful for the gifts it'd bestowed and vowing to continue the pursuit she'd undertaken. That path had changed her, taught her in ways she hadn't foreseen, and opened the doors to the very moment in which she stood.

 **xxxx**

She climbed into a cab from her hotel to the PUBLIC for the wedding, Rick's hotel tucked on Michigan Avenue between the two, and she grinned as they drove past, wondering if he was already finished with his day and what he might be doing. She glanced down at her lap and pulled the fabric of her dress taught, her mind wandering to the other hanging in the closet in her room, the one she'd chosen to wear for him and the power of his eyes on her at first sight. She would carry that look with her all night.

The ceremony was small and sophisticated, more the influence of Will's wife than he, Kate imagined, his style always far less reserved, at least in the years she'd spent with him. The couple wrote and exchanged their own vows, and while she found those moments and those words did provoke a touch of melancholy somewhere within her, she allowed that feeling to come as Rick had advocated, the return cathartic, immediate in its aftereffect.

Sitting beside an empty chair at the reception, a chair reserved for a plus-one she'd never invited to accompany her, Kate thought of her parents, about her father who hadn't again found love in her mother's absence, and about how that was the very last thing she would've wanted for him and all the years of his future. She knew she wanted more for herself, more than just memories and an office with her nameplate attached to it.

"I'm glad you came," Kate heard softly in her ear, pulling her back from reflection. "I didn't think you ever left the office," Will said with amusement, dropping into the chair next to her. "At least, that's what I've heard."

"Tough to say no to an open bar and a view like that," Kate replied, looking back over her shoulder at the illuminated skyline in the room's distance. "Plus, the rail was calling and you know how that old siren song goes."

"Still not flying, huh? What'd it take you, four days to get here from New York?"

"That's very funny. You know, envy doesn't really go with that tie."

Will smiled grandly. "I've missed that mind of yours," he told her. "It was always moving just a little bit faster than the rest of us. That office is lucky to have you. I hope they know it."

"I appreciate that, thank you," Kate said. "It's been quite a ride, so far." She sipped from her glass of champagne and quickly scanned the room with her eyes. "Your wife is beautiful. All of this was beautiful."

He watched her for a quiet moment before continuing. "I hope you're happy, Kate. After everything you've been through and everything you've accomplished, I really hope you're happy."

"I am, and I'm…I'm working on it," she said. "And I'm glad to see you are."

He leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Thanks for being here. It means a lot." He stood and pushed the chair back in, a hand at her shoulder. "Be happy, Kate," he said and he moved away.

 **xxxx**

She stayed only a short time longer, opting for the fresh air of a walk before hailing a cab back to the Loews, more the former, given the late Saturday night bustle of the city. On that elevator ride up to her floor from the lobby, she found herself alone, of course, and she couldn't help but laugh at the missed opportunity of it all.

She could already see Rick when she stepped from the car and made her turn, his back propped against her door and his legs stretched out across the hallway. She stopped immediately, her body almost too excited to move, and she watched as his face lit up when he finally caught sight of her.

He pushed himself up from the floor and glanced down at his watch. "So, it's Sunday," he said. Once able to convince her legs to do what she wanted, she headed straight for him and didn't stop until his arms caught her. "I often attempt to exploit technicalities. That's a thing you should know about me up front."

"Oh, yeah? Maybe you should write me a list of things I should know in that journal of yours," Kate said with an audible smile.

"Oh, no, that journal is reserved for things far more interesting than I." He pulled back and kissed her forehead. "Is it okay that I came? I wasn't sure if I should-"

"I'm glad you did," she said, sliding her keycard into the door and leading him inside by the hand. He sat down on the end of the bed as she unbuttoned her coat and unraveled her scarf, his eyes positively transfixed. "I want to talk, but do you mind if I take this thing off first?" she asked, pointing to her dress.

"This feels like a cruel trick question," he replied. She crooked one eyebrow at him and turned for the bathroom. "My mom always used to tell me that when something seems too good to be true, it usually is," he called out after her. "I really hate it when she's right."

Kate emerged a few minutes later in a tank top and pajama pants, her hair and makeup still in place and photo-ready. "Okay, I feel better now. Being a girl's exhausting, sometimes."

"Come here," Rick said, his tone both affectionate and insistent. She crossed to him and stopped when she reached his knees. "You look gorgeous. You could've worn this to the wedding and it wouldn't have mattered."

"Maybe to the next one," she said jokingly, "but thank you."

He took her hand and guided her onto the bed beside him. "How did this one go? How are you feeling?"

"It was…nice, actually. I had a chance to talk to Will for a few minutes at the reception. He told me to be happy."

"That bastard," Rick quipped, prompting a swat to the arm. His fingers grazed the small of her back and he could feel her react. "Also, he's right. You should be." A notable stillness set in while he prepared to tell her why he'd come, though not one of discomfort or unease. "Kate," he began, "I find myself in a most wonderfully unexpected place with you. I'm someone who has always seen a lot, always noticed people and things. It's what helped me to become a writer. But you, I did not see you coming, and you've set in motion something in me that I've never experienced before. And, I know. I know it hasn't even been three days, but I don't care about that, and neither does my heart, apparently."

"Fuck, I can't wait to read your book," Kate whispered aloud, resting her forehead against his shoulder. "Do you always know the perfect things to say?"

"Parsnips!" he exclaimed, apropos of nothing and garnering a look of confusion. "No, I don't, clearly, but I sort of like messy. Messy is where the interesting lives."

"Can't say as I've ever met an interesting parsnip," she razzed.

"Well, then, please feel free to substitute the root vegetable of your choosing." His eyes found hers before he continued. "There are things, yes, not small things, like Manhattan and Albany, but it doesn't matter to me where somewhere is, because not having you anywhere isn't an option, anymore. But, Kate, if I'm alone here, if there isn't…I mean, if you don't-"

She brought her hand to his cheek, drew a finger along the line of his jaw. "There is. I do. I swear, I can barely think about anything else," she professed, kissing him softly.

"Look who's saying the perfect thing now," he said, pulling her in for more, this time deeper, fiery. "Did I tell you that dress was incredible, by the way," he exhaled, breathless. "Next time, you can wear it for me."

"Rick," she said, taking his hair firmly in her hand's grasp, "I don't want to talk anymore."

He followed her lead as she pushed backwards onto the bed, hovering closely above her in wait for her to settle. His jacket already discarded, she went to work on the buttons of his shirt, her mouth finding his amidst her effort, his body maneuvering into the space between her thighs. With his weight supported by one arm, his fingers found the sliver of exposed skin at her waist and a gentle hum of pleasure escaped her at the contact. Angling for her ear, his hand pushed beneath the cotton of her tank. "Kate, I didn't expect this," he admitted painfully. "I didn't bring-"

She arched upwards and kissed him heatedly. "I always come prepared," she told him. "You should probably know that about _me_ up front. And, are you still talking?"

"No ma'am," he said, and they were on each other.

It was slow, like two new to the art, like two who longed for no end, for it to forever imprint on themselves and the other. And it was fast, the ache of further wait too painful to endure, and the sensations too stunning to bridle. Their bodies recognized each other in a profound way, offering no explanation as to how, merely unleashing gratitude for their union born of pure chance, and no sooner had the first wave passed than the second inundated them.

Hours they spent wrapped up in one another, the consequence of time all but forgotten in the darkness of the room around them, and not until Kate's phone chirped late that morning did either move a muscle from the hold of the other. She rolled onto her side, pulling his arm along with her in the motion, and reached to silence the uninvited intruder. Rick kissed at the skin of her back in indiscriminate pattern, her arousal closer to the surface than she imagined possible after what'd come before. "It's just my dad," she said, biting playfully at his arm. "I'll call him back later."

"Why do I suddenly feel like I should put on a tie?" he joked.

"Do you even own a tie, Mr. I Love To Wear Jeans To Work?"

He squeezed her in tight against him. "I'll add that to the list for you: owns tie." He could feel her body shudder with her giggle and it flooded him with a palpable joy. "Last night was amazing," he said, rotating her, once again, onto her back. "I couldn't have written it any better. Oh, speaking of which," he said, releasing her and crawling from beneath the covers for his jacket. "I finished that story I was working on about the traveling cookie lover. I know you were anxious to hear the ending so you could decide whether or not to go and buy it in that bookshop of yours." He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket and slid back in beside her.

"I work hard for my money, professor, and I don't part with it easily, well, unless we're talking about leather jackets. I may have a slight discipline problem with the leather."

"I do like the sound of that," he said, lost momentarily in the thought. "Now see how you like the sound of this." He cleared his throat and began to read what was scribbled on the page. "He went to her and they made love, and he was the best she'd ever had, and-"

"You didn't really write that, did you?" she interrupted. "You wrote 'made love'? Kind of flowery for what that was."

"Okay, maybe I just added that part, but shush, I'm reading." He went on. "It wasn't like anything. He didn't know what she'd done to him, but the unfamiliar had never felt so utterly safe. He'd bought her a cookie and she'd blown his life wide open, and he finally understood what all the stories were about, what he'd been writing for. Somewhere between here and there, he'd found the answer to a question he'd never before asked: 'Why had everything in his life happened in the way it had?' In that train car, in that seat, on that day, she was that answer. The End." He reached over and set the paper on the nightstand, turning back to find her pushing a tear from her cheek. "So, have I won your $30, queen of the leather jackets?"

Kate looked back at him with feigned shock. "You never said it would be _that_ much," she wisecracked, sliding onto his body, already craving the next wave. "Maybe some more proof that you're the best I've ever had might help ease the sting," she purred, kissing his bare chest.

"Oh, I've got every inch of proof you'll ever need," he shot back, feasting on her suggestion. He pushed a hand through the loose hair at her cheek and held it steady, his eyes fixed on hers with pure adoration. "How much time do I have?" he asked thoughtfully, his hope far beyond the hotel room, far beyond the streets of Chicago.

"How much do you want?" She knew what he was asking, the weight in his simple words manifested in his gaze.

"I thought you didn't like to make deals."

She lowered her head and it came softly to rest, her ear just above his heart. "I've felt enough over the past couple of days to know this is a fight I'm not going to win, so I'm opening myself up to rare negotiation."

His fingertip traced lazy circles along the curve of her shoulder, and she exhaled a warm breath across his skin. "I want every minute you'll give me," he told her. "And after I have those, just to forewarn you, I'll want more."

She angled up so she could see his face, a fist beneath her chin. "There are things," she said, echoing his earlier thought. "But I think I can live with those terms, for now."

"Should we make love on it?" he said, simply to take enjoyment from her reaction.

She adjusted her body advantageously as she could feel his begin to respond. "We're really going to have to work on your vocabulary," she grumbled in jest. His body began to move against hers and her breath fluttered. "Where did you come from?" she asked him once more.

"I came from Albany," he said, and they began again.


End file.
